


Magpie Collection

by Luthienberen



Series: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2018 [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson (TV 1980)
Genre: Antiques fair, Crossdressing, Hats, Humor, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-01 11:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15142472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: 2018 July Writing Prompts. Any prompts part of the "Magpie" universe will go here.Magpie: Seeking a replacement tea service at an antiques fair gets slightly out of hand.





	1. Magpie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for July writing prompts. Prompt No. 2 Picture Prompt (of an antique stall).

The antiques fair was a beautiful affair. Laid out on the impeccably groomed lawns of a private garden owned by a wealthy philanthropist, the stalls were full of that odd mixture of ‘antiques’ usually brought out for these things.

 

Watson and Holmes paused at the entrance to survey the bustle of the crowd.

 

“Parrots,” murmured Holmes.

 

Watson’s lips twitched in a repressed chuckle even as he turned stern eyes on his companion.

 

“Really Holmes, that is hardly fair.”

 

“You are right Watson. Parrots make more sense than this jabbering lot.”

 

Watson sighed and glanced at the myriad of ladies clad in a wonderful array of colourful dresses and terrific hats, boasting fine plumages of flowers and fruit. Some were ridiculous, some in good humour and others plainly bad taste.

 

Overall however, he thought they looked rather fine, but he knew Holmes wouldn’t welcome the comment so he simply linked their arms and said, “I feel we best move on my dear Holmes. Remember, no deductions _as you promised_. We are here for a _replacement tea service._ For the ones you keep poisoning. No exotic poisons or dreadful statues or medical tools…I do love them, the medical tools that it, but I am running out of space.”

 

Holmes rolled his eyes, but smiled.

 

“Oh very well Watson. I can refrain from purchasing the entire antiques fair or from deducing a crime. Lead on.”

 

Watson sighed in relief and some trepidation, strengthened by Holmes’ mutter as they strolled towards the first stall.

 

“I’ll behave because you threatened my marmalade.”

 

Such a compliant had to be ignored no matter how true (and necessary) the threat had been to ensure Holmes’ good behaviour.

 

Then his eyes fell on a teapot and Watson’s world suddenly narrowed to a world of fine china, clay and silver.

 

“Holmes look!” Watson held up a beautiful pale pink china teapot, the pink blossom chasing down the side of the pot from drooping branches.

 

Holmes’ smile was indulgent and for a brief moment his eyes were full of a deep abiding romantic love, before his companion concealed it behind a safe mask of friendship.

 

“It is quite picturesque Watson. Would you like it?” A wallet appeared in slender fingers.

 

“But...”

 

“No protests Watson, I insist.”

 

Knowing a futile battle Watson conceded.

 

As Holmes paid Watson fell further into the rabbit hole and began darting about, using his cane whenever his leg played up to reach a particularly interesting member of the tea service set.

 

Holmes followed with a growing smile and laugh at his doctor’s antics.

 

_Baker Street_

 

Their breakfast table was crammed with teapots of every variety: plain sensible white, delicate eggshell blue and white, pale rose, or bright jarring colours. Mismatched tea cups and saucers abounded.

 

Milk jugs also vied for space, squeezing in-between teapots and rising tall above sugar bowls and cups.

 

These all clustered proudly around a wonderful silver set for marmalade and jam that Watson had succeeded in buying for Holmes…along with four more types in case they had an excess of marmalade.

 

Watson was collapsed in his armchair, the haze and alluring siren call of the antiques fair clearing. Dear me…had he truly either brought or had Holmes buy all _this_ for him…them?

 

The man in question was standing with an amused expression and surveying the fruits of Watson’s labour. He looked over at Watson and Watson felt heat leap into his cheeks.

 

Sherlock Holmes however just laughed and crossing the room he bent over, placing his hands-on Watson’s arms and kissing him deeply. His tongue demanded entrance so Watson opened with a groan. Holmes tongue and lips devoured him, tasting of tobacco and the cake and tea they had eaten earlier.

 

Watson was breathless when Holmes withdrew.

 

“Sherlock…”

 

“John, I love you even when you wish to buy every single teapot, teacup, milk jug and marmalade pot so we have more than the Queen. Just no more words on medical tools if you please.”

 

“None Sherlock,” Watson said with a gasp as Holmes kissed him again.

 

“Now I demand your presence in our room for some further experiments. I wish to test exactly which position you prefer when we…”

 

“Make love?”

 

“If you insist.”

 

Watson laughed and pushed Holmes up so he could stand.

 

“I do, it flusters you so.”

 

Holmes rolled his eyes, blushing and with a dangerous gleam to his pale eyes gripped Watson’s arm.  Laughing happily though still embarrassed, Watson allowed himself to be dragged to Holmes’ – their – bedroom. 

 

After all, they had important experiments to conduct.


	2. Marmalade Watson?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watson only wishes to enjoy his breakfast, but with Holmes that is never straight-forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for July writing prompts. 
> 
> **Prompt No.4 Contradict Yourself. “Dollop”:** A large amount (British English), or a small amount.  
>  Contronymns are words that are their own antonyms. Choose one from the list and use both its meanings in your work.  
> Full link:  
> https://www.dailywritingtips.com/75-contronyms-words-with-contradictory-meanings/

\---

The day after their excursion to the antiques fair Watson sat at the table for breakfast, now thankfully cleared of the numerous items he had brought home.  
  
He studiously ignored them standing instead in the corner, awaiting a more rigorous approach to storage. Instead he calmly reached for the new crystal jam and marmalade jars.   
  
The raspberry jam was a rich red and the aroma was luscious, ushering in the flavour of summer as he took some on his spoon.   
  
"Watson!"  
  
The cheerful exclamation and long fingers brushing his cheek caused Watson to drop the spoon. The dollop of jam ended up splattered on his plate and the table-cloth.  
  
"Holmes, _must_ you startle me so?"  
  
Holmes smirked as he sank into his chair. It sent sparks through Watson so that his hands trembled slightly as he cleared the spillage.  
  
"You had no objection to my hands last night Watson."  
  
Did the man have no decorum? And what was he doing now?  
  
"Holmes? What are you doing?"  
  
"Replacing your lost jam," said the detective even as he scooped such a large dollop on Watson's toast, the doctor feared his toast was a lost in a sea of marmalade.  
  
"That is marmalade Holmes."  
  
"Much better than jam my dear doctor."  
  
"There is a divided opinion on the subject," said Watson, "but why are you sharing your marmalade?"  
  
"Can't I share it with my devoted companion and colleague?"  
  
"Hmmm."  
  
"Well, there may be a case."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"It involves the sewers I'm afraid."  
  
Watson sighed.   
  
"After yesterday I can hardly say no, but if you wish to humour me, jam is sufficient."  
  
Holmes beamed and placed the spoon back in the marmalade pot, where the pale orange caught the sun quite prettily.

"Excellent Watson. Let us eat and fetch Lestrade."  
  
_The poor man_.

Watson spared a thought for the unsuspecting Inspector before diving into his breakfast to build up energy for the rather smelly day ahead.

 


	3. Confounded Hat!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes is undercover on a case and Watson finds the situation quite trying for his “nerves”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Please note that I have changed the rating of the Magpie Collection from "Teen and Up" to "Explicit" to be safe for potential future chapters.
> 
> Written for July writing prompts. Prompt No.17 Hats Hats!. Let the art of the haberdasher and milliner inspire you today. Bonus point if you include a picture of a hat that inspired your work!
> 
>  _I found the hat in my work here:_ http://mmccormickci3reflectivejournal.blogspot.com/2014/02/hat-notes.html

* * *

 

Watson wondered why he allowed Holmes to talk him into such a silly circus. While he enjoyed sharing Holmes’ cases and took great pleasure in observing Holmes deduce from the most seemingly insignificant item or phrase, this was a step too far surely?

A burst of laughter caused Watson to glance over at the gaggle of women – young and mature – who were gathered in a huddle on the green grass of the park. Two large blankets had been spread out to provide protection from grass stains and bugs.

There, among the women was Holmes…also attired as a woman. Watson found it disturbing how easily the detective blended among his – her – fellows. The dark blue dress was complimented by careful application of make-up, fragrance and mannerisms matching perfectly of the group of women Holmes was among.

He was oddly compelling in his guise of a lady and Watson couldn’t stop stealing glances at the lipstick and the figure granted by the corset Watson had laced Holmes into earlier. He could still feel the ties in his hands and the curves his lover sported stirred his loins most alarmingly.

Yet the entire assemble was overshadowed by the splendid hat Holmes wore. A large black affair, it had a perfectly done fake bird attached to it. The bird’s feathers were glossy and swept over the body in a marvellous imitation of flight. Whenever Holmes moved his head the eyes glinted in the sun and Watson thought the bird would stretch its wings and take flight, leaving Holmes exposed.

The idea thrilled him so Watson tried not to look too much. Yet that was impossible.

“Doctor Watson,” hissed Inspector Lestrade.

Startled and guilty, Watson returned his attention to Lestrade, but not before Holmes pouted at him in a deliciously naughty manner.

“Yes Lestrade?”

The Inspector was flushed with exertion for they had been playing catch with a rugby ball. They were meant to linger closely to Holmes while the detective went undercover to discover which of the ladies (or all of them) had put poison into the Home Secretary’s tea.

 _Maybe_ , thought Watson treacherously, _the man simply has a mad roommate who uses teapots to discover the properties of various toxins._

“Will you stop gazing at H- the lady in question? We are meant to be discreet.”

“Of course Lestrade, I do apologise. Shall we rest for a moment? Mrs Hudson packed lemonade and sandwiches.”

Lestrade mopped his forehead and nodded. In a moment they were sitting, ignoring the state of their trousers and chewing on ham sandwiches and sipping still cool lemonade.

“This is _much_ better than wading through filthy sewers Doctor.”

“I couldn’t agree more Inspector. Particularly as it is void of rats.”

“That we can both agree on. Whatever happened to _that_ rat?”

“Oh, I have resolved the affair never fear Inspector. I just hope this descendant of the Giant Rat of Sumatra is happy now.”

Lestrade reflected upon this then in mutual agreement, pulled a curtain over the entire adventure. Watson however thought of writing it down in his journal, not to be revealed to anyone until Holmes consented that the world (or a small chosen set of people) was prepared for both stories.

The Inspector now focused on the present.

“Shame at what a good woman Mr Holmes makes, might cause him to dress as one again.” Lestrade froze around a mouthful, swallowed and gazed at Watson in fright.

“You don’t think he’ll convince us to dress as women for a case?”

“Good heavens no. We would make dreadful women.”

Watson knew that Lestrade was correct in that Holmes would certainly add this guise to his repertoire, but as for he and Lestrade joining Holmes? Neither of them were sufficiently good at acting such parts to be of material assistance and Watson knew with his figure he wouldn’t pass as a convincing woman.

Lestrade sagged in relief and continued eating. Watson also relaxed, but stole looks at his evil lover who delighted in simultaneously unearthing the potential plot and riling up Watson’s sexual desires.

A lot of it involved tilting his head to show off his hat or using the hat to shadow his eyes so that Watson trembled at every little glimpse he caught when the hat shifted.

Eventually Holmes had the evidence he required. It transpired that the Home Secretary had been an innocent bystander with the true target one of the ladies’ philandering husband.

Typically, Holmes had admired the application of the poison and actually taken notes before leaving the station – all the time in that dratted bewitching hat!

Unsurprisingly, when they finally returned to 221B Baker Street Watson was pinning Holmes against their bedroom door.

“Holmes, you will remove every article of clothing _bar_ the hat.”

“I say,” murmured Holmes, mouth wide, red lips shockingly inviting.

So Watson kissed him hard.

Now breathless, Holmes groaned and whispered hoarsely, “How will it stay on?”

“Hat pins my dear man. They are useful for more than keeping a hat on in a wind.”

Watson admired how Holmes laughed: his eyes bright, mouth delicious and chest heaving in its corseted confines.

“I do believe I shall wear this ensemble again if tonight proves as interesting as it has proved illuminating so far.”

Watson nipped at Holmes’ neck and allowed his breath to tickle Holmes’ ear, “I assure you Holmes, by the time I have finished with you, we will be needing a few more hats damn you.”

“Hmmm, but first my good man, fetch your top hat. I will not enter the fray alone.”

Watson happily obliged and the rest of the night was given to experimentation, mostly on how to keep a fetching bird hat and a top hat in position while other activities were occurring…among other things.


End file.
